


Four Years Ago, the Day of Forbodium

by 247megamania



Category: Layton Brothers: Mystery Room, Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:28:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27889039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/247megamania/pseuds/247megamania
Summary: Hey there! Thanks for reading this.One thing that always bothered me about the game was that we never get a good explanation for why Alfendi goes alone to Forbodium Castle the first time. Justin's reasoning is that he was "trying to be a hero", but come on, that's Justin talking. Anyway, due to the lack of an answer, I decided to write one. This is what I think happened that caused Alfendi to go get himself shot in the rain on top of a virtually abandoned castle. Enjoy!
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Four Years Ago, the Day of Forbodium

It didn’t add up.  


Alfendi Layton, DCI for the Scotland Yard, reviewed the photos scattered about the desk once more, a frustrated smirk playing across his face. The security camera showed that the wife entered and left. Then 21 minutes of nothing until the jeweler came into the room, followed shortly by Makepeace, the trader. Six minutes later they left together, the trader popped back in for his briefcase, and the maid dropped by to tidy up and pinch some cash. The wife finished up the little drama by discovering the body of her murdered husband on the couch of his office. Everything exactly the same as when he investigated it a month ago, and just like then, it didn’t add up.  


Makepeace was the killer, of course. They’d cracked it yesterday, or at least, he had, finally pinpointing the man responsible for 26 puzzling murders, this one included. And yet based on the evidence Al had before him, it was impossible for the man to be guilty.  


Unless there was something missing. Al rifled through the pile of files next to him, yanking a few out of the stack and spreading them out in front of him. Here, there, and there. Three more cases where the facts, what he knew must have happened, didn’t manifest itself in the evidence he had, and that wasn’t even taking into account the five or so cases that didn’t fit the killer’s MO at all but where they found puzzle pieces anyway. It was undeniable. Someone at the yard, someone on the team was interfering with the investigation.  


“Hey, Al!” Justin shoved the office door open with his usual force and trudged into the room, causing Alfendi to nearly jump out of his skin.  


“What do you want?” Al snapped, organizing the papers littering the desk as nonchalantly as possible, hoping Justin wouldn’t look too hard at what he’d been researching.  


“You haven’t heard? We found him.”  


“Makepeace? Already?”  


“Who else? He’s holing up in some ruin in the middle of nowhere. Get ready for a raid, my friend.”  


“Forbodium Castle isn’t exactly a ruin.” Hidla waltzed in with her usual grace, drawing Al’s gaze away from the files. “But it is fairly far into the country. Getting there with all the manpower we need to catch the man will be a challenge.”  


“Like trying to get you to wear sensible shoes during a manhunt,” Al said, noting her customary high heeled shoes.  


“Oh, shut up, you.”  


The door opened again, and Commissioner Barton, a short, busy man with an impeccable white mustache strode into the office. “It’s good to see you all here. We need to start preparing for the raid today, so Justin, if you would…”  


Al tuned him out. This was his least favorite part of the job, the hundreds of phone calls organizing backup and endless debates of details. They didn’t need him for this, anyway. He’d be the first to admit that his strengths lay in solving mysteries, not in chasing down criminals, although he’d be obliged to join the raid anyay.  


Hilda Pertinax or Justin Lawson. Al sat down and rubbed his chin. One of them was the traitor who manipulated evidence to help Makepeace go undetected.  


DCI Pertinax he’d known the longest. They’d gone through Academy together, joined the force together, been promoted together. She dressed like a businesswoman more than anything else, but he knew perfectly well that the tailored jacket and pencil skirt disguised multiple weapons and a bulletproof vest, and that, heels or no heels, she could outrun most criminals. Al trusted her, beyond just with detective work. He had to admit, though, the strength of her ambition caught him off guard sometimes. She could have, perhaps, let Makepeace run wild and gain notoriety so she could have all the more fame when the team caught him.  


Detective Lawson he’d only met when they started working the case together. He was the very image of a loyal, intimidating, trustworthy (if a little brain dead) cop. He’d been on the force for far longer than Al or Hilda and knew all the tricks in the book, and was one of the best on the force with a gun. Al thought of him as a good man, but there were moments of darkness to him he didn’t entirely trust.  


The commissioner was out of the picture. Besides the fact that Barton was a close friend of his father’s, he’d only started working with them for the twelve most recent cases, and signs of the conspiracy traced back much further than that.  


Hilda or Justin. Hilda or Justin. Al slumped forward and ran his fingers through his hair. He didn’t know. He had no decisive evidence one way or another, and he was out of time. He couldn’t tell the commissioner about his suspicions, or the raid might get called off, letting Makepeace get away to kill again. But if the saboteur came with them on the raid, someone was sure to end up dead. There had to be a solution, one where nobody died. He just had to find it.  


“Al, are you even listening?” Hilda asked.  


Al shook himself out of his thoughts. “Of course not. Why?”  


“You’re a major part of the plan, Al, we need your input.” Justin folded his arms and glared.  


“As if. We always end up doing what you suggest anyway, so quit bothering me. You can tell me what you decide later.”  


“Fine.” Justin resumed his previous activity of diagramming the plan on the board, chalk scraping away in the quiet of the room.  


Al looked away and caught Hilda staring at him. “What?”  


“Nothing. It’s just, I thought you’d be happier.”  


“Excuse me?”  


“We’ve been working this case for a year, I thought you’d be ecstatic when we found the monster behind the killings. And yet you’re even more irate than usual.”  


“Hilda, I -”  


“He’s probably upset that there’s no more murders to look forward to.”  


“Justin!”  


“You’ve seen that little smile of his at crime scenes. He enjoys it. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, but now that it’s over -”  


“Oh, come on, Justin, he isn’t that bad.”  


Al opened the door. “I’m getting coffee.”  


“The kettle’s right there, Al.” Justin gestured, chalk in hand.  


“I’ve had enough of that swill. Call me when you’re done.” He stepped into the hall, slamming the door behind him, and smiled. He’d found the solution.  


Whoever the saboteur was, they were sure to arrange the raid so they could kill Makepeace. They needed to ensure his silence about whatever deal they’d concocted, after all. So if Al could get to Makepeace first, and offer him protection in exchange for a peaceful surrender…  


It might work. It might not. Either way, it was the only chance he had. He walked out to the street and hailed a cab.  


“Where to?”  


“Forbodium Castle.”


End file.
